n0irb3ast

[n0irb3ast]

Could we just imagine bloodsharing with Elijah Mikaelson?

He is so gentle and careful when doing it, would let you drink directly from his neck, your hands snaking up his chest and towards his shoulders clinging to him as if he were your lifeline.

The animalistic little growl he lets out when your teeth pierce his skin, the small gasp when you suck.

His hand grab your wrist and carefully presses it against his lips, his free hand rests at the back of your head holding you in place, your small whimpers and gasps from pain music to his ears.

And when hes finished with you, he bites his own wrist and gently presses it against your lips because he would never leave you like that: vulnerable and hurt. Your comfort always comes first to him.

[n0irb3ast]

Knowing Rafe is hurting you but not being able to stay away from him because he just has you so good. He has altered your brain completely, you can’t be touched by a man without craving him.

A random touron had ‘seduced’ you, you had accepted him eagerly, in need of some good sex yet as soon as things escalated you realized your mistake.

His cock wasn’t as thick as Rafe’s, almost like a pencil, it was even smaller than the toys you use to play with, the man was average sized but he just wasn’t Rafe. His hands caressed your skin instead of smacking it, his voice wasn’t as low nor as raspy, he whispered how good he made you feel, and it felt intimate, almost making you want to vomit.

So it wasn’t a surprise for you when that same night you ended up in Rafe’s bed, ass up as he pounded into you from behind, mind going blank, drooling his forearm that was right under your face. “Theeere you go… shi’…” he growled. “Such a needy whore, you thought you could be satisfied with that man? huh? Little did he know you are a worthless little bitch…” He chuckled when his sudden spank against your rear made you cry out. “There, there… I know you like it, no need to pretend, I’ve got you ruined”

And Oh, he so had, your body was his to play with.

[n0irb3ast]

You could hear it; shadows danced behind the thin fabrics that covered your bed. Once again, he had come to see you.

You held your breath, as if that would make you invisible to him, as if that way he wouldn’t find you.

Bony fingers pulled the fabric aside; the first thing you noticed was the sapphire shining under the moonlight. The prince was here once again.

"I hope you're not considering accepting Mother's proposal." His soft voice was the calm before the storm; you could tell by the glint in his eyes. It made the skin on the back of your neck prickle, and a chill ran through your body even under the blankets. "You are not a woman destined for faith."

“No.” You replied quickly, though your voice trembled, and he noticed the lie. You were planning to accept—to give your body and heart to faith, and not to him, who was the rightful owner of both by birthright.

That was enough to turn Aemond's gentle expression into a menacing one. His hands found your wrists, and you tried to break free from his iron grip, but it was impossible.

“I thought I made it clear when I told you that you were mine, sister.” He had indeed made it clear, on the first of many nights he took you in your own bed, yet you refused to believe it. Your mother had raised you very differently from your elder siblings. Aemond had been raised the same way, yet he seemed to have embraced the strange customs of your family all the same. In your eyes, what you and Aemond did, what Aegon and Helaena did, was an aberration.

“B-Brother…” you stammered. You had begged your mother, who was unaware of the difficult position you were in, not to make your entry into the faith official until after you had taken your vows, but she hadn’t listened.

“This is betrayal, sister,” he said softly. “You are betraying your blood, your family. You aren’t honoring my feelings—do you not care how I feel? Are you truly so... cruel as to mock your own brother by making such a decision behind his back?”

Just as you were about to answer, he placed a hand over your mouth, so forcefully you feared he might break your jaw. “No, sister, it’s not me you need to speak to, but Mother. You must tell her that you’ve changed your mind, that you will not accept her proposal... that you’d rather stay here, in the Red Keep, where you belong.”

You nodded and rose from the bed, smoothing down your nightgown in an attempt to appear at least somewhat presentable before your mother.

Just as you were about to leave, Aemond called your name, causing you to stop dead in your tracks. Your name was not sweet on his lips as it had been at other times; no, it sounded almost like an insult. “...And if you happen to accept Lord Wylde’s marriage proposal, I want you to know that this is a bloody war... Anything could happen to you at the hands of a degenerate like that man... Even death.”